Having been on holiday in the US, I was unaware of the great "butch" debate in our parliament. It was, unaccountably, not reported in the Bangor (Maine) Daily News, which seemed more interested the story about a local couple who had received official permission to keep a wallaby, provided they increased the height of their garden fence, presumably so the pet would not leap over and alarm passing lumberjacks, lobsters and innocent citizens of that beautiful state. There was nothing there about David Cameron's curious use of the word "butch".

But on Wednesday, back home, it was an important theme of prime minister's questions. These sessions are nominally about the economy, but the undercurrent is a topic everyone really wants to talk about, which on Wednesday was just how butch David Cameron is. A week ago, he had – I am told by colleagues – used the word sarcastically against Ed Miliband who, he said, continued to offer coffee to Ed Balls, even though they are tremendous political rivals. Cameron said that showed "how assertive and butch the leader of the opposition is".

As usual with Cameron's pop culture references, he is out of date. "Butch" has not meant tough he-man for years. It is now almost exclusively used for a certain type of gay man, often with a bushy moustache. The Village People were butch. But you would not now use the word to describe, say, John Wayne or Freddie Flintoff.

It was an out gay man, Chris Bryant, who oddly used the word when he pointed out that the twice as many women as men had lost jobs in the recession. "I know the prime minister likes to think of himself as butch, but what has he got against women?" Cameron tried to flip him away with a little wave of the hand — a slightly fey, or even camp, wave.

Later, he and Ed Miliband deployed prepared routines against each other. The prime minister pointed out that the new Labour party guru was called "... and I am not making this up!" , J Hacker, like the feckless fellow in Yes, Minister. In fact Jacob, not Jim Hacker is an American academic who recommends something called "pre-distribution" which implies spending £200bn of cash before you actually raise it, so kick-starting the economy. Or destroying it.

Miliband did not respond but asked Cameron if he was a beneficiary of the 5p tax cut on top incomes. Of course he is, but just as the Republicans' Mitt Romney won't produce his tax returns, so Cameron won't admit it.

"Let me compliment the prime minister on a butch answer," said Miliband. "What a week it has been for Mr Butch!" he added, as if the prime minister was a character in the Mister Men books. ("Mr Butch pulled on his leather trousers, and said, 'Mmmm, what a lovely day for sacking women!'") He pointed out that Cameron had fired Caroline Spelman to make way for an older male person. "That was very butch!" he said, sounding more like a New York cop than Graham Norton.

Then we had the prime minister's statement on the Hillsborough football stadium tragedy report. Cameron does regret and apology very well, with dignity and sincerity. As with the Bloody Sunday report, he caught the mood of the house – ruefulness blended with sheer rage – as well as anyone could.